Page 75 of The Briar Bargain
"Mamma is in good spirits," Jane said, looking up with evident relief. "She writes that they are all well. The flooding has receded considerably, and she has been kept busy organising baskets for those most affected."
By which Mamma meant that Mary had been kept very busy, Elizabeth thought with affection. Her younger sister was always wishing for opportunities to distinguish herself, and this had been a good one. Her middle sister's talent for managing domestic crises had never been tested, but she suspected that Mary had done well.
She had tried not to dwell on the separation, but it was such a relief to hear that everyone was safe and that their home had not suffered any damage. She unfolded her own letter with careful fingers, noting how her father had managed to keep his characteristic economy even in circumstances that might have prompted a slightly longer missive. He had written in his usual style, that blend of dry observation and paternal affection that never failed to make her smile.
My dear Lizzy,
You are, I trust, still reasonably dry and undamaged by the recent catastrophes of Nature, which have proven themselves remarkably indifferent to our convenience. The northern footbridge may now be safely crossed by man and horse, though I would not recommend attempting it with any wheeled conveyance unless you wish to provide the neighbourhood with an amusing spectacle. I have sent John Davis with a few useful items selected by your mother, as it has come to my attention that one cannot subsist indefinitely on borrowed clothing, however prettily they may be offered.
I hope you will return promptly once the carriage bridge is restored, or sooner if you are inclined to walk ten miles and, as your dear mamma says, ruin your constitution for the sake of your old father's peace of mind.
I should not tempt you. Wait for the carriage bridge to be repaired, if you please.
Your mother wishes me to convey her love and her fervent hope that Jane has taken advantage of her time at Netherfield. She will be quite put out with you, Lizzy, if Jane has not. No, I do not comprehend the logic in such a statement either.
Your affectionate Papa
Elizabeth bit her lip to suppress a laugh. Even in a letter, Papa could not resist poking gentle fun at Mamma's matrimonial machinations. She could picture him in his study, quill in hand, composing this missive with the same care he might give to correspondence with his solicitor, yet infusing it with just enough sentiment to reassure her of his affection.
Miss Bingley, who had been seated at the writing desk with her back held in its customary rigid posture, turned with the expression of polite inquiry that Elizabeth had learned to recognise as barely concealed irritation. "Is something amusing, Miss Eliza?"
"Oh, merely my father's humour," Elizabeth replied, folding the letter with care. "And he has been so thoughtful as to send us some of our things."
"How providential," Miss Bingley said.
Mrs. Hurst glanced up and cleared her throat delicately. "Shall I call the maid to carry your things to your chambers, Miss Elizabeth?" she inquired mildly when it was clear Miss Bingley would not offer.
"I thank you, yes." Elizabeth turned to her sister. "I shall see that your things are put away if you like, Jane."
Jane nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Lizzy. I confess I shall be glad to have another change of clothes."
As Elizabeth prepared to follow the maid upstairs, Mr. Bingley entered, his cheeks flushed from the cold air, and his eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Excellent news!" he announced to the room at large. "Mr. Linton rode the northern bridge with Davis to test its soundness, and he has also informed me that the main bridge should be passable by carriage the day after next.”
Elizabeth felt a curious mixture of relief and something that might have been disappointment. Two days. She would not miss her hostess, but she would miss being in Mr. Darcy’s company so often.
"That is indeed good news," Jane said warmly. "Though I confess we shall be sorry to leave such generous hosts."
Mr. Bingley's face lit up at her words. "The pleasure has been entirely ours, I assure you. Has it not, Caroline?"
“Of course,” Miss Bingley replied thinly.
As she made her way upstairs, trailing behind the maid who carried their bundle of clean clothes, Elizabeth found herself oddly unsettled. She had been genuinely eager to return home, and yet the prospect of leavingNetherfield in just two days created an unexpectedly hollow feeling in her chest. She would miss Mr. Darcy. How strange that seemed, but it was true.
As she reached the landing, Mr. Darcy was crossing from the direction of his chamber, a leather-bound book tucked under his arm. He paused upon seeing her, his dark eyes taking in the maid hurrying up the steps with the bundle.
"Miss Elizabeth," he said, offering a slight bow that managed to be both proper and somehow less formal than his usual manner. "Good news from home, I hope?"
"Yes, thank you. My family is well."
"That is encouraging news," he replied. "I trust Longbourne weathered the storm without serious difficulty?"
"Yes, I am pleased to say. My father sends me his affection and a gentle reminder that I ought not walk the ten miles home."
A ghost of a smile passed over Mr. Darcy's features—an expression she was seeing more frequently, and that never failed to transform his entire countenance. "Sensible advice."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the memory of her earlier determination to attempt just such a walk. She could see he was surprised at the gesture, but not offended, thank goodness. "Yes," she said teasingly. "I believe it is the same advice given to me by another gentleman some days ago." Then, more seriously, she added, "Thank you for that."
